


Heart and Soul

by WingletBlackbird



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: AU, Eros and Psyche, F/M, Greek myth - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27895414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingletBlackbird/pseuds/WingletBlackbird
Summary: An Anakin and Padme story based upon the Greek myth of Eros and Psyche. Palpatine wants Anakin, the god of love, to curse Queen Amidala, but he falls in love with her instead.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	Heart and Soul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Padme_Amitabha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Padme_Amitabha/gifts).



> Inspired by one of Padme_Amitahba’s posts on Tumblr.

This is a story that took place a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. An old story that has been relegated to myth and legend. Yet every story has truth at its core. This is the story of Anakin and Padme, the god of love and the goddess of the soul and how they came to be.

Anakin stepped into the throneroom when the Red Guards bid him entrance. The Red Guards were demigods Palpatine had chosen to guard the entrance to the throne room of the gods on their homeplanet, Coruscant. 

“Anakin!” Palpatine called as he saw the young god enter. “I’m glad you came!” Spreading his arms wide, he smiled as he welcomed his young friend. Anakin bowed slightly in deference to Palpatine’s position as leader of the gods. He smiled widely as well. 

“Of course I came when you called. You know I’d do anything to help a friend.” Palpatine placed a fatherly hand on Anakin’s shoulder. 

“Of course. Of course. They may as well call you the god of loyalty as the god of love.” He chuckled, but Anakin did not laugh. As far as he was concerned love and loyalty were flip sides of the same coin. How could you betray that which you loved? 

“I’m afraid I’ve not merely called you here to socialise, my dear boy. There is a matter I need you to take care of.”

“Oh?” Anakin responded, his brow furrowed. 

“Yes,” Palaptine said with a tired sigh as he settled onto his throne. “There has been a new Queen elected on Naboo. Amidala is her name.”

“I fail to see the issue. New monarchs come all the time.”

“True, true. But this, you see is different. She reaches beyond her station. They say she is more beautiful than even the goddess of love herself, your late mother,” Palpatine nodded sympathetically at him. “She has reached too far, and must be brought to task. I trust you understand.”

“I do.” Anakin spoke in a low, harsh voice. Palpatine had taken him under his wing after his mother had died, leaving him with too much responsibility to shoulder, and taught him how best to use his ability. The power of love to influence events was significant. Anakin knew how to reward with it, but he also knew how to punish with it. He definitely would do so for any mortal who felt they had the right to infringe or disrespect any god’s domain, much as had been done to his mother. Nor was it the first time that Palpatine had made suggestions of what events Anakin might see fit to interfere with. Palpatine was one of his best sources of guidance. 

“I want you to make it clear to her and her followers that disrespect will not be tolerated. Go down to Naboo and make her fall in love with a hideous monster.”

“It will be done, my lord.”

In a flash, Anakin took his godly form to Naboo. 

Called Skywalker by the mortals, Anakin flew through the air on wings, invisible to the mortal eye, looking for Amidala. He found her seated on the throne talking to a council of advisors. Bored as he was, he knew he would have to wait until she went to the gardens. He could call a savage beast and shoot her with one of his arrows to ensure she would fall in love with it, an event from which she would surely never recover. 

Anakin eyed her carefully. With the excessive makeup that covered her face, and the over-the-top hair pieces, he could make no estimation of her physical beauty, but he was surprised by what he sensed of her spirit. Being the god of love, Anakin was used to getting a taste of what motivated and drove people that he might know who to send them. In all of his, admittedly short for a god, life, he had never encountered a soul so beautiful as the one before him. Was she truly Amidala? Or a handmaiden in disguise? Surely no one who seemed so vibrant could be so vile?

Intrigued, Anakin stayed the entire day as she spoke to her advisers and attended her work. There was no doubt that this was the Queen. She was kind, intelligent, gentle, and loving. She reminded him of his mother, he thought. His mother who had believed in the power of love, all forms of it, saying that it was more powerful and wonderful than any other gift in the galaxy. Not to be treated lightly, and yet still given freely. _The greatest problem in the realms_ , _Ani_ , she would whisper to him, _is that no one helps each other_. Never before had he met anyone else he thought truly lived like that philosophy implied. He found it hard to believe Amidala herself would boast of rivaling the goddess of love, but he felt he could understand why other mortals would say it. Anakin suddenly felt uneasy. Did she really deserve the punishment? 

Whispering a thought into her ear, he watched as Amidala announced to her handmaidens that she would like to go to the river in the garden _alone_. He left as they came to attend to her, removing her makeup, helping her change into something more appropriate as well as urging her to consider security. 

Anakin could not say how long he waited on that rock. His quiver slung over his shoulder; his bow in his left hand and arrow held lightly in his other. A hideous mutation of a veermok was hidden in the bushes awaiting Anakin’s judgment. He had never before felt the need to disobey Palpatine, but even Palpatine had to be wrong sometimes. Anakin’s head snapped up when he finally heard the crunch of footsteps over the gravel footpath. His eyes landed on the queen without her royal makeup or dress. 

_She cannot be merely a mortal_ , he thought. _Her beauty is beyond it._ Instantly, unthinkingly, Anakin found himself standing in a gesture of respect startling the young Amidala out of her own distant thoughts. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realise there was anyone here!” 

“It’s all right.” Anakin replied dazedly. “I hardly minded. No one could mind seeing you.” He spoke breathlessly and then felt like crawling under a rock. What had made him say that? He was the god of love. Shouldn't he be smooth, suave like Obi-Wan, the god of negotiation? Fortunately, the queen did not seem to mind, but smiled shyly.

“What’s your name?”

“Anakin.” He swallowed nervously. “What’s yours?”

“Padme Naberrie.”

“Oh. That’s pretty.” Anakin mumbled. “It suits you. I--Are you a goddess?” He blurted out.

“Oh, no!” She exclaimed. “No, of course not. That’s very flattering, but I am merely mortal.”

“Well,” pondered Anakin, “maybe you are, and you just don’t know it.” Padme laughed and Anakin thought maybe it should have upset him, but it sounded so beautiful he couldn't help but smile. 

“I don’t think you can confuse goddess for mortal,” she replied with a wry smile and a tilt of the head that ought to have conveyed humility but rather spoke of mischief. But while she found the thought of confusing goddess and mortal silly, Anakin knew it was possible. Anakin's own mother had lost her powers for unknown reasons while she was still pregnant with him. Anakin had been lost with her in the mortal realm until the god of nature, Qui-Gon, had found them, and taken Anakin back to Coruscant. Nothing was or could be done for his mother though. No one had even tried. Anakin had lost her to death less than a year before. Perhaps Padme was a goddess. She just didn’t know it yet. 

“Are you a hunter?” She gestured to the bow and arrow in his hands.

“Oh, this,” Anakin snapped out of his train of thought and made to spin the arrow around hoping to show off a little, but in his eagerness, he dropped it instead. _Kriff_. What must she think of him now? He was trying to decide whether to rush to pick it up or play it cool when he realised she was laughing in earnest now. It ought to have upset him but the angle of her head and the way her dark eyes crinkled with mirth only made her more desirable. Her air and manner made it clear the laughter was of pure joy of company than malice. He did not think she was capable of laughing meanly. 

“I’m sorry,” she said sweetly, “but it’s been a long day and seeing that made me feel much better somehow.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled at her and then realized he was probably just staring like an idiot. “I should go.” He stammered. 

“If you must,” she replied. “I hope you enjoy your hunt. Naboo has many excellent options for hunters.”

“I’m sure I will.” Anakin bent down to pick up the arrow he had dropped, but unwilling to take his eyes off of Padme, he picked it up in haste and was stabbed by his own instrument.

The god of love was in love. 

Anakin immediately decided not to tell Palpatine that he had failed. He could hardly bring himself to say he let the man down, but what was rather more significant was how could he possibly admit that the god of love had been stabbed by his own arrow? And to a mortal woman no less.

That might even be the worst part. Anakin knew of many gods who dallied with mortals. Demigods were had by many affairs. Obi-Wan, he knew, was a notorious flirt. He, Anakin, however, had never seen the use. Aren’t you the god of love? People would ask him. Yes, he would say, but love means loyalty. I expect more than the mere satiation of lust. He had never been with any woman...but most definitely not a mortal. That went without saying.

Anakin had seen too much of death when he had been forced to live in their realm. He was one of the few gods to have seen an immortal being die. He had hoped never to know such loss again. And yet he should love a mortal woman. And if anyone knew, anyone with a vendetta against him for a hasty match or a broken heart, they need only harm Queen Amidala to hurt him. No one could know. No one could ever know. 

He would try to forget. 

That night a god dreamed of Padme Naberrie. The next night he dreamed again. Soon, the dreams began to manifest in the day. Soon, the god’s every thought drifted to Padme. Love can be powerful, and the god of love’s passion cannot cool with ease. Years are but blink of an eye to a god, and it was only a few blinks for Anakin to give up on his resolve.

He returned to Naboo amid Amidala’s second term. Her beauty had not faded but grown. Her popularity had not waned but bloomed. 

Anakin felt his ichor chill as he realised there was a problem. Palpatine might not realise that Anakin had not gone through with making Padme fall in love with a monster, but eventually he would realise too much time had passed in the mortal realm with her on the throne. Then he would ask why, and everyone would know Anakin loved her. What else could a god do then but protect her?

The years that passed therein are not relevant to this tale, but it would do well to epitomise the reign of Queen Amidala to say that she reigned with a god hovering behind her throne ready to to strike any threat down with his arrows. It is a rare monarch who can claim to have the embodiment of love seated by her side. 

When Amidala stepped off her throne after her second term, she looked forward to returning home to a simpler life. She looked back with pride at her reign, but in her gentlest heart, she had long turned her thoughts to marriage and motherhood. When she thought of nursing and guiding a little one into adulthood, she felt blessed that she would know something equally as important and sacred as every rite of royalty. She yearned for motherhood with an almost physical ache, and dreamed of cuddles and kisses and sticky toddlers.

She attended the balls her parents hosted with eagerness. She danced with all the eligible young men she was introduced to, and unlike during her rule, she accepted each offer with a willingness to be pleased and excited. Most of the men, she was saddened to see, she could cultivate no interest in. As eager as she was for motherhood, she could not bear a father to her children whom she could not respect. She needed someone who could match her flame, or at least would not attempt to quench it. 

Her parents, eager to arrange a marriage for their most eligible daughter continued to host balls and bring her to others. Yet, even the young men she and her father might have considered acceptable, would attend to her and pass her by. Soon, people began to whisper. How could Amidala, who was so beloved and so beautiful, be so slighted? 

Padme herself began to reflect with misery on her own situation. She knew she was beautiful enough she ought to be able to attract any man’s eye. She had not been above its use as queen. She equally knew that often when men saw only beauty, they cared not for wit, and she was full of wit, liveliness, and intelligence. Was this what was so off-putting? Was her will too strong? She would not compromise it for anything. Yet, she was now five and twenty; were she anyone else she would be decried as quick to become an old maid. Would she never know the joys of marriage and children? Should she look to other sources of service? Return to politics? Volunteer to help with refugees? 

“Padme?” She looked up from where she had laid on her bed. 

“Come in.” She called out, hastily straightening her hair and dress. Her father entered the room. She allowed her expression to fall. She would not be able to hide her own misery from him nor did she feel the need to try. He sat down on the bed next to her and wrapped her up in a hug, his head rested on hers. 

“Do not despair, child.” He whispered into her hair. “We will pray to Skywalker, and he will grant you love. You, of anyone, must deserve the god’s blessing.” He kissed her on the brow and bid her to change into a nice dress and join him at the Temple. She nodded in determination and said she would meet him at the door in half an hour. 

Anakin was not unaware of Padme’s misery when he heard the prayers of her and her father rise from his temple. He had stayed to guard her side through the three years since her reign had ended. He had turned away every man deemed unworthy of her affections, and had waited and waited until she would find an interest in a man who would deserve her. Any man she desired, he would have shot with his arrow for her. A penance for what he had once planned for her, and a gift from a god who loved her more dearly than he had ever loved anything before. Yet, no man was good enough, and he would not have her miserable.

When father and daughter came to his temple, Anakin saw an opportunity, an opportunity to love Padme without harm befalling her, and without anyone discovering he had been pierced with his own arrow.

 _Tell them there is one man who will marry her._ He whispered into his oracle’s mind. _Tell them he is more powerful and terrible than any god, and she must go to the top of De’ja peak. There he will come for her, and they will wed._

Smiling, Anakin left to prepare his palace for his wife. In this way, let everyone think he had made the former Queen Amidala love a monster, while he, Skywalker, hoped he would earn her love himself and guard her all the while. 

The Naberries reacted in a much different fashion. Joy was far from their thoughts. News of their devastation reached every corner of Naboo, and people from all across the planet came to attend and mourn as Padme, dressed in her best wedding clothes, was left on mountain peak for a monster. She waited there, holding back tears in her eyes until something, something she could not see, swept her away on wings. The last she saw of her family was of their screams and wails. 

When the mysterious creature that carried her off landed, however, she found herself in the middle of a most beautiful palace that, though small by the standard of palaces, was exquisite and elegant. 

“Hello! Oh, hello! Mistress, Padme.” She heard a high, eager voice call out. Turning to find the source of the sound she found a high-end protocol droid waddling her way. “We were told you would come. I am so delighted to see you. I am See-Threepio Human-Cyborg Relations.”

“I’m Padme, but I gather you know that?” 

“Oh, yes, mistress, we’ve been waiting for you. The Master told us you would be arriving.”

“Where is he?” Padme asked looking around, but the mysterious creature who had grabbed her and flown her there seemed to have disappeared. 

“He is out hunting, Mistress, but I’m sure he’ll be back soon. If you would like a bath, we can arrange it for you, or if you would like dinner, we can prepare it for you.”

“Just dinner please,” she responded absent-mindedly. What was that creature who had flown here here? Why was her husband not here? And most importantly, would he be a gentle lover, or was this truly a horror story? She doubted she would be able to eat anything at all. 

Hours later, still in her wedding dress, See-Threepio escorted her to the master bedroom where he informed her the Master was waiting. Raising her chin, Padme steeled herself for the worst and entered the dark room. Inside she could barely see her hand in front of her face. If her husband was there, she would not be able to tell. 

“Hello?” She called out softly, scared to break the silence.

“Hello,” she heard a man’s voice. She turned to her right and vaguely saw the shape of a tall man in the darkness, but she could discern no features. _At least_ , she thought, _his voice is pleasing_. He sounded kind. 

“Did the droids take good care of you?” The man asked. She noted his voice was hesitant. He must be nervous, she concluded. This knowledge reassured her. She did not think a domineering, cruel man would sound so soft-spoken and cautious. 

“Yes, they were lovely, my lord.” She tilted her tone up at his title, uncertain if it was the correct address. 

“Just Anakin is fine.”

“Is Anakin your name?”

“It is.”

Padme swallowed nervously and shivered. She felt unequal to more small talk. Was he going to bed her now or…?

“Don’t be afraid.” The voice said. “I won’t hurt you or force you into anything. We need only sleep tonight, and, perhaps, we could simply talk?”

Padme let out a slow breath of relief, although it was tinged by a slight hint of regret which surprised her. 

“That sounds good, my lord.”

“Anakin.”

“Anakin.” 

That night she told him of her childhood and he asked questions or made observations here and there. It was oddly peaceful and pleasant, and soon she fell into a deep and easy sleep. 

When she awoke she was alone. She looked around the bedroom and noticed a closet. Eager to get out of her wedding dress which she had reluctantly slept in, she entered and gasped. All of her dresses from home were here. She opened drawers set into the wall, and discovered her jewelry and her hair pieces. How had her husband, Anakin, she reminded herself, gotten all of this here? Smiling she pulled out a favorite yellow dress and rushed off to the bathroom to freshen up. 

When she entered the breakfast room, following the eager attentions of a mouse droid who had escorted her there, she found serving droids spreading out a delightful array of breakfast choices. Still, she did not see her husband. Strange, she wondered.

“Excuse me,” she beckoned to one of the serving droids. “Is your master here?”

“Oh, no, mistress, he has gone out hunting and will not be back until nightfall, but if you need anything, you have but to ask!”

He was out hunting? That was what Threepio had said last night. Was that her husband’s hobby? Passtime? Occupation? Was he some mad hermit who took a fancy to her and lived in the mountains? 

She pondered on the question all through breakfast until Threepio came in to give her a tour of the rooms. She gratefully accepted and took the opportunity to ask him all about Master Anakin. 

“Oh, Master Anakin is a wonderful master! He is my maker, you know!”

“Your maker?”

“Why, yes, Mistress, he made or upgraded all of us.”

“He likes droids then?”

“Oh, yes, Mistress Padme, we are all his good friends.”

“And he treats you well?”

“Wonderfully well, Mistress.” The protocol droid continued on waving his arms wildly and praising his master. He was clearly high-strung and bound to protocol, and she doubted he would say anything bad about his master. However, she was also certain the droid’s regard for Master Anakin was quite sincere. She felt that said rather a lot about her husband, that those he had power over thought well of him. Even more so, since they were droids. 

She passed the day reading in the library and writing letters to her family describing the opulence of her surroundings. 

That night, she changed into night clothes and waited for her husband to come. Sure enough, she saw a faint silhouette of a man before she felt the bed dip alongside her. 

“I heard you built Threepio and all the other droids here?” She had planned her questions carefully, hoping to engage him in a subject that might draw him to speak more to her, a subject he must have some interest in. Padme was not disappointed. 

Anakin spoke earnestly about how Threepio had been the first he had built as a boy. In turn she spoke of how much she loved her own droid, an astromech called Artoo Detoo. She loved the little droid so much she had even learned binary to understand it without a translation. Anakin was thrilled by this. He was fluent as well. To test this fact, they tried making beeping sounds at each other to mutual amusement. That night, Padme fell asleep laughing. 

Once more she awoke to an empty bed, but she was not alone. 

“Bee boop!” Padme gasped and jumped out of the bed to hug Artoo who was spinning his top in excitement. 

“How did you get here?”

Artoo beeped wildly about being whisked away on a wind. 

“That must have been my husband.” Padme told him. “He’s a strange sort, but I guess he realized I missed you and brought you here for me. How kind of him.” 

The two spent the next morning catching up and the morning seemed impossibly bright to Padme as she introduced Artoo to all the other droids and continued to make new friends. Once again, her husband would not be available until nighttime.

“Anakin?” She asked when she felt him lie beside her again. “I want to thank you for bringing Artoo here for me.”

“Not at all,” the shadow spoke. “I want you to be happy here, and he’s a pretty special droid anyway. Please, don’t be afraid to ask if there’s anything you need.” Padme bit her lip and pressed on.

“I was wondering if you would ever join me during the daytime?” There was a long pause and Padme began to wonder if she should not have pushed when the voice answered back. 

“I’m afraid not. I have too many responsibilities during the day; I can only be here at night, and I must ask that you don’t request to see my face.”

Padme nodded solemnly before she realised he must not be able to see her and verbally acquiesced. 

Many days and weeks passed in this fashion, and every night Anakin and Padme stayed awake together and spoke. Soon Padme found the nights were something to greatly look forward to. She enjoyed speaking to Anakin. He was gentle and kind, but also passionate and with an irreverent sense of humour.

The more she grew to care about him, the more she wondered about the mystery of his face. Why would he not wish her to see it? Was he deformed in some way? She could not imagine why that should matter in the end. She wondered why it was that the others he spoke of when he told her about his days might be able to see his visage, but she was thus forbidden. And the more she cared for him, the more it weighed on her that she might not see his face. 

The night came where she rolled over and asked Anakin if he desired her. She almost laughed when he stammered out that of course he did. How could anyone not?

“Then would you not make love to me?” She felt him rise up on an elbow and look at her. 

“Are you certain?” He asked her in a low, fierce voice.

“Yes.”

The shadow learned down and kissed her.

When she woke up alone again, it was nothing unusual, but Padme smiled anyway. Whatever her husband’s reticence, he had proven he was a more than capable lover. 

Each day afterwards passed more joyfully then the next, and Padme was amazed by her own happiness. As the weeks passed into months, however, Padme also grew lonely. She longed for someone to spend the days with her too. She hoped for children, but she also yearned for parents and her sister. The droids were wonderful, but they could be no substitute for her family and friends.

“Anakin?” Padme asked, her head resting on his chest. 

“Yes, my love?”

“Would it be possible to go visit my family?” She felt the chest beneath her sigh. 

“You’re lonely?”

“Yes.”

“It’s too risky for you to leave here, but I can arrange for your family to come visit.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Padme.”

She smiled and climbed up to kiss him. 

Only two days later, she found her sister and her best friend and former handmaiden, Sabe at the door. 

“Padme!” They both exclaimed when they saw her and hugs and kisses were exchanged by all parties. Padme quickly confirmed that she was alright, numerous times, and that Anakin was wonderful, numerous times, and that she was well, numerous times.

She noticed Sabe and Sola exchange glances throughout, and she imagined they must think she was putting on a brave face, so she insisted on giving them a tour of the palace before they sat down for an early lunch. As soon as they sat down, Padme knew they would not let it go.

“It is wonderful, Padme.” Sola said. “It’s like nothing I have ever seen. It cannot be mortal.”

“I agree, Padme,” Sabe said, shaking her head. “You’re far too generous. The things seen and experienced here...it cannot be right. No mere hunter could afford all this.”

“And you say that you have never seen his face.” Sola continued. Padme just shook her head. “Well, how do you know then that he isn’t some monster who made some ill-fated bargain? Maybe he means to offer you up as sacrifice? The prophecy said you would be given to someone terrible and great.”

“She’s right, Padme,” Sabe chimed in. “It’s too good to be true. You’re always too willing to give people the benefit of the doubt. There’s something fishy about this. You need to be sure.”

“Can we please just talk about something else?” Padme snapped, and Sola and Sabe reluctantly agreed but their eyes never conveyed anything less than overflowing concern. 

They left her company in the evening to return home, but their words stayed and haunted her. When they parted, Sabe whispered into her ear. “Just in case you have to kill it, keep your knife close.” The thought horrified her. Kill Anakin? She could hardly imagine it, but what if they were right? What if the prophecy meant that she was imprisoned by a monster, however nice the prison was? And how could a mere hunter afford all this? But how could she look at Anakin when he asked her not to? Surely that was wrong? He had been nothing but tenderhearted and generous. 

Her resolve was decided when she realised she had missed her cycle by a couple of weeks. She had to know whose child she was carrying. That very night, after Anakin had fallen asleep, Padme went over to her night table and lit a candle. Carefully she brought it over to Anakin’s side of the bed.

In the candlelight she saw a bare chested man. He was beautiful. He had wavy, slightly long, dirty blonde hair, a dimpled chin, a muscular physique. He was easily the most attractive man she had ever seen. He was no monster. Looking at him, Padme knew he could only be the god of love, Skywalker himself. 

Padme felt tears prick the back of her eyes and she immediately went to snuff the candle out. Her hand shook as she moved too quickly and a drop of wax fell and landed on Anakin’s chest. Padme watched in horror. Anakin’s eyes snapped open and she surprised herself that the first thing she could think of was how beautifully blue they were. 

“Snake!” He cried out as he stood up. “How could you betray me like this? 

He began to shine with his godly form as he made to leave through the window and Padme quickly closed her eyes less she disintegrated. Everyone knew that to look on a god’s true form was death. 

That was the first night since marrying Anakin that Padme ever cried herself to sleep. 

A week passed and Padme slept alone. Had she ruined it all? Surely not? But, when she asked the droids, it was made clear that Master Anakin would _not_ be seeing her. In desperation, Padme knew she had to make things right, but how can you find a god and beg forgiveness? The only thing she could think of was to pray to Palpatine. Surely the king of the gods would know where her husband was? 

She had barely finished her prayer when she, for the second time in her life, felt a wind grab her and carry her away. She landed in an open field and there stood a figure she knew must be the god, Palpatine. She knelt before him.

“There, there, child,” he said calmly. “You may see him again, but first you must prove your love. I will grant you three tasks. However,” she dared to look up as his tone hardened; his eyes seemed to glint a sickly yellow, “if you fail in even one of these, you will never see him again.” Padme rose to her feet and dared to meet the god’s eyes. 

“Give me the tasks.”

In the spare bedroom of the palace, Anakin wept. How could Padme have betrayed him like that? He had been there, invisible to mortal eyes, had heard the words Sabe had whispered. He would never have believed Padme would take her advice. How could he have so misjudged her? In his raw grief, he did not notice Palpatine enter his room until the god spoke. 

“Anakin, my boy, you should have told me.” Anakin wiped the tears of his face. 

“Told you what, excellency?”

“That you failed with the Queen Amidala. You see now, I think, my wisdom in that matter.”

Anakin just shrugged. He could hardly bring himself to care about anything. 

“No matter, it is done now and she is dead and the better for it.”

Anakin choked back a lump in his throat. “Dead, sir?”

“Yes,” Palpatine sat next to him and nodded sympathetically. “I am afraid that in your anger, you killed her.”

“What?! No, that’s not possible! I could _never_ have hurt her.” But even as Anakin said it, he remembered gathering his godly form together and bursting out. He had been so used to leaving her thus in darkness, with no risk of her seeing his true form, he had forgotten to warn her. 

“No,” he whispered. “No. No. No. No. No. NO!”

“I am sorry, child.” Palpatine murmured as he left the young god to his grief and self-loathing. 

In a distant field, Padme was asked to separate massive dunes of mixed grains and seeds into different piles in only a day. The task was beyond mortal ability, but she must do it, she must. She prayed to any and every god she could think of that her plea would be heard, and she started in. She had barely begun before a stream of ants came to her rescue and helped her sort the piles. She smiled and whispered a prayer of gratitude. 

“Anakin! Get out of bed!” Once again Anakin didn't notice his friend’s entrance. He rolled over and squinted. Yep, it was Obi-Wan. He would have ignored the god if he had not known Obi-Wan would not tolerate it.

“What do you want, Obi-Wan?”

“Do you intend to leave your wife to fail?”

Anakin closed his eyes, but it still did not stop the fall of tears. 

“Why are you crying? Surely, you’re not so upset because she justifiably wanted to see the face of the man she married?”

“She could have asked me! Instead, she assumed I was a monster and--”

“Was she holding a knife?”

“No, but..”

“Then maybe you aren’t giving her quite enough credit.”

“She could have asked! I just wanted to be sure she loved me, no arrows, no manipulation of godly beauty.” Anakin rolled over. “It hardly matters. She’s dead, and it’s my fault.”

Anakin did not think it was possible to live with so much grief. When he was a boy on Coruscant, he had not realised how different time could pass between the realms, he aged slowly while his mother hurtled towards death. He could not save her. How could he have failed again with Padme? He wished he could die with them. He had never wished to be mortal, but now he would have traded all his ichor for the redness of mortal lifeblood. 

“Dead?! What are you talking about Anakin?” Anakin turned back and saw Obi-Wan with his hands on his hips. “I just helped your wife get through her first impossible task just to be allowed to see you again!”

“What?!” Anakin sat up and blinked in confusion. “But Palpatine said she was dead?” Obi-Wan snorted and his hair flopped into his eyes. 

“She certainly is not. She just struck a bargain with Palpatine that she will complete three tasks to be reunited with you. As the god of negotiation I could not be ignorant of it. I have helped her with the first task, but I felt you ought to do the rest.” Anakin was still wrestling with the first part of information. If Palpatine had made a deal with Padme…

“Why would he tell me she was dead then?” Obi-Wan sighed deeply and rubbed his beard. 

“I have always had my suspicions of Palpatine. After Qui-Gon brought you home, he immediately befell an accident, now nature is being overrun by man. Conveniently, Palpatine stepped in to help you.”

“What’s your point?” Anakin bit out through clenched teeth. 

“Only that Palpatine is the god of politics and power. Love can easily drive people to do things that they would never otherwise take risks for. Palpatine has been gathering power for years. Being able to manipulate you would be a great asset. Frankly, so would removing your mother, but I cannot prove that. Regardless, keeping you here grieving, while he handles Amidala would benefit him a great deal. _Think,_ Anakin. ”

Anakin grabbed his bow and quiver full of arrows and flashed away to the field where Padme was being assigned the next task. He would help his wife and find the truth of this. 

There he saw Palpatine had set the next task for Padme which was to fill a glass bottle with water from one of the rivers flowing down into a nearby waterfall. Flying to the top, Anakin quickly realised that Padme would never make it there. Only a being who could fly would ever succeed. Turning himself into a bird he swooped down and captured some water in his beak and hurried towards his love. Padme held out the bottle and her husband, although she did not realise it, deposited the water for her. 

Palpatine appeared once more and he furiously derided Padme for her success. 

“You could not have accomplished that without help!” He yelled at her so angrily that spittle flew from his lips and for the first time Anakin saw madness behind the man’s face. If it were not for the fact that Anakin could not interfere in a god’s bargain, he would have struck Palpatine down then and there. 

“You never said I could not have help.” Padme replied calmly, but Anakin could see fire flash in her eyes and he grinned with pride. 

“Your last task will be to take some fluff from that entire herd of Shaak.” Palpatine pointed his fingers across the field to where the animals were grazing. “You will have one hour.”

Anakin could not help but note that this time, Palpatine had not even given her scissors. He intended these tasks to be impossible. Snarling, Anakin flew to the herd and ordered them to line up by Padme who he noted had pulled out a knife she had hidden in her dress. One by one, Padme sheared some fluff off of the shaaks. She smiled as she completed the task. 

“Now, I will be able to see Anakin,” he heard her say. His heart leapt at proof of her love. In that movement, Palptine appeared once more, and his fury was undisguised. 

“You most certainly will not!” The king of the gods shouted. “I intended these tasks for you, and you alone, and you will not see him ever again!” Palpatine raised his hands and Anakin realised he intended to smite her down. Making himself visible, he reached for an arrow and yelled.

“Palpatine!”

When the god looked at him, Anakin released the arrow and called for the veermok that was once meant for Padme. As the arrow pierced Palpatine’s heart, he fell in love with the most hideous of monsters.

Anakin grabbed Padme and flew her back to their palace. 

“Oh, Anakin!” She turned in his arms as soon as he landed and wrapped her arms around his neck. She was obliged to stand on her toes a bit given the height differences as she kissed him. “I’m so, so sorry. I should have trusted you more.”

“No, no,” Anakin whispered back, “ I overreacted. I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.” The mutual apologies flowed one over the other and the young couple were kissing and murmuring sweet nothings to each other. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” they heard a voice say, although the lilt in his tone suggested nothing of apology and everything of amusement. It was Obi-Wan, the god of negotiation.

“Obi-Wan, what do you want?” Anakin barely looked at the man as it would have required looking even a second away from Padme who scolded him for his rudeness. 

“Well, seeing as I am the god of negotiation, I am here to ensure the sanctity of a bargain.” He looked directly at Padme. “I believe you agreed to complete three tasks to be with Anakin?”

Padme nodded yes.

“Well, then, mortality will be rather insufficient.” Obi-Wan stepped forward and placed a hand on Padme’s head. “To reward you for your completion of three impossible tasks, I now grant you immortality as the goddess of the soul.”

Obi-Wan, looking supremely pleased with himself, winked at Anakin and disappeared. This time, Padme had no need to look away from a god’s true form. She was one herself.

When the mortal realm learned of the new goddess, there was coined a new phrase that to truly love someone was to love them “heart and soul.” And so Anakin and Padme, and their children, loved for millennia to come. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Listened to Heart and Soul while writing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6EaytUFTDDs


End file.
